


Prologue - A Change is Gonna Come

by Emi_theSassiestSousa



Series: A Change is Gonna Come [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean discovers new music, Dean swears like the sailor he was meant to be, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Led Zeppelin - Freeform, M/M, Oh look Sam is here too, SERIES TAGS:, Warm and Fuzzies, alternate Season 13 ending, canon adjacent, dark themes, depression- ptsd- assault- suicide- etc., doppleganger singers, greta van fleet, hurt with delayed comfort, not much sub left in this text, the fluff runs right up against the hurt, the slowest of burns, whumpfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emi_theSassiestSousa/pseuds/Emi_theSassiestSousa
Summary: The effect of the low guitar that rumbled from the speakers was immediate. Dean went stiff in his chair, his eyes twitching wide and his breath pausing. As the singers began to moan behind the heavy riff, his face creased with a frown and he whispered:*What the fuck…?*(In which the Author thinks that the band Greta Van Fleet is freaky enough to investigate.)





	Prologue - A Change is Gonna Come

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't listened to Greta Van Fleet yet, I highly recommend them, I think they're pretty neat. You might enjoy listening to the songs as they're mentioned, too, so [here is a Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7FajxPSUIlAvfLT3Q121Ck) which also includes the "theme songs" for the main characters of the series. I have also included individual links when songs are mentioned, if you prefer that. This is all 100% optional.

It started with an earnest suggestion:

“Dean, I think I found something you may be interested in."

Cas pushed a set of borrowed headphones off his ears and turned in his chair to face Dean, seated beside him at the corner of one of the long tables in the bunker's library.

Dean, his gaze fixed on an old, worn-out book in his lap, only grunted in short acknowledgement.

Cas continued, “I believe I found some new songs from your favorite band," he said, undaunted by the lackluster response.

Dean just flipped a page in his book. “Zeppelin doesn’t put out new material, Cas."

“But this group sounds just like your band." Cas narrowed his eyes at the laptop, as through scolding it for this possible betrayal. "The article I'm reading recommended these artists to those who already enjoy Led Zeppelin's music, and the other suggestions were certainly similar, but this one sounds as though the original musicians are simply performing under a different name.”

Dean gave another non-committal grunt, still not looking up. “There’s a lotta cover bands out there, Cas. Bands that try to sound like other bands on purpose.” 

“Yes, Dean, I’m familiar with that concept," Cas huffed, "but I’ve never heard these songs before.” He glanced between the computer and Dean. "Perhaps... Could I play them for you? So you can tell me whether they're new?”

Even if they weren't, Cas thought to himself, at least they’d end up listening to Dean’s favorite music for a while.

Dean shut his eyes and gave a short sigh through his nose. He marked his page with a finger and finally sat up to face Cas. “Yeah. Sure, buddy. Shoot.”

An unbidden smile tugged at the corner of Cas's lips as he unplugged the headphones from the laptop and gingerly set them on the table, taking particular care to place the cord where it couldn't be snagged off the side. He raised the volume on the computer as high as it would go, diligently remembering the many,  _many_  times he'd been instructed that the only acceptable way to listen to Led Zeppelin was— as Dean usually phrased it— "pants-shittingly loud."

“This one seems to be particularly popular,” Cas said as he clicked the little arrow beside the track titled  _'_[ _H_ _ighway_ _Tune._](https://open.spotify.com/track/7aOor99o8NNLZYElOXlBG1?si=T4NKXwqLTs-S7774wLymbw)'

The effect of the low guitar that rumbled from the speakers was immediate. Dean went stiff in his chair, his eyes twitching wide and his breath pausing. As the singers began to moan behind the heavy riff, his face creased with a frown and he whispered:

*What the fuck…?*

For a moment Cas worried that something was wrong. This band was very important to Dean, after all, and if someone was blaspheming their work— 

But then that guitar _slammed_  into them, and the drum set _snapped_ into life, and the first wail of the lead singer _tore_ out over it all. Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his head ticked back, and he repeated, a little louder, “What the fuck?”

And as Cas watched Dean’s expression, searching intently for every minute shift and tell, it became apparent that it wasn't anger or disappointment he was watching build behind his eyes, but confusion, and surprise, and maybe even...  _excitement_.

The song pounded on and Dean's reaction only improved. A smile slowly grew as his free hand came up to grip the arm of his chair, his tongue ran across his lips and his eyes darted in front of him, as if he were trying to seek every facet of this new sound with all of his senses. The song dropped low, and Dean leaned forward in his chair.

Then a second careening wail drew that smile into a wide, toothy grin, and unnoticed by both of them, Cas couldn’t help but follow suit.

Far too soon, the song reached its end, and as the final chord rang out, Dean spun to Cas, pure exhilaration splashed across his face.

“Who _are_ these guys?"

With great effort, Cas pulled his eyes from Dean's utter joy to read the group's name again, inexplicably finding himself unable to remember it at the moment. “The band is called Greta Van Fleet," he read, "The article says they’re a band from Frankenmuth, Michigan, named after a family friend, Gretna Van Fleet, who allowed them to use her name with her blessing and they—”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, I don't need the whole Wikipedia article," Dean chided from behind a grin. “Greta Van Fleet, huh? They got any other songs?”

Cas sat up in his seat, now positively beaming. “They have a whole album of songs. Here…” he pulled up the next track, “this one is also very popular.”

“I bet they’re all popular with a sound like that,” Dean smirked. He watched the little loading icon rapturously.

The guitar slid back in to begin  _'_ _[Black Smoke Rising](https://open.spotify.com/track/32BEasyNQgqXQJKoVa0fUw?si=Ifoe0djxREuMdng1llhN5g)',_  and Cas couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride as Dean set his book aside on the table, his page unmarked.

“Jesus," Dean breathed at the end of the first verse. "This guy even says ‘Yeah’ the same way…”

Cas silently tipped his head.

Dean’s eyes skipped over to him right away. “You know, like Robert Plant," he explained. "You were totally right, Cas, this guy sounds _just_ like the lead singer of Zeppelin.”

Cas's smile easily returned with the affirmation.

Dean shifted his chair around the corner of the table, placing himself next to Cas, evidently to better see the screen.

At that same moment, a warm feeling happened to tickle at Cas’s chest. It was as concerning as it was pleasant, encouraging his smile to grow, but also prompting an uncomfortable prickling sensation across his skin. It was something that had been happening fairly frequently lately, but at this point Cas accounted for it as some lingering effect from his time in the Empty, a readjustment after returning from what should have been a truly final death. So far the sensation had caused him no trouble, so he simply did his best to keep it in hand, focusing his grace to calm these peculiar sensations in his vessel.

As the song wound down, Sam entered the library, heading right to a shelf, apparently ready to switch out his own book that he had just finished. 

He glanced over at their table. “What are you guys listening to?” he asked.

“A new band,” Dean answered.

“They actually formed back in 2012,” corrected Cas. “Though I suppose they only became popular around 2015. Is two years still considered new?”

Sam quirked an eyebrow. “2015? Dean, you only listen to stuff older than you are.” 

“Ha-ha, fuck you, Sammy. Shut up and listen to this.” Dean leaned over to the laptop to play another song. His anticipation was almost palpable as the jangling guitar began for  _'_[ _Flower Power_. _'_](https://open.spotify.com/track/4SE1kjgRulcwjNcc7oFFg4?si=z5OwZkkFRDKxy6O4QtCMgQ)

"Just _listen_ to that!" Dean beamed partway through. "The guitars, the drums—" The singer cut across the song again, causing Dean to fall back in his chair with a slap on his thigh. “Dude, this is _crazy,_ they even have the same vibrato!”

Sam’s eyebrow shot up again. “Do you even know what vibrato is?”

 _"Pff._ You don’t listen to Queen and not know what vibrato is.” 

"Uh-huh..." Sam nodded slowly as he removed a manuscript from the shelf. “Okay, well, you two enjoy geeking out over this.”

“We’re not _geeking,_ we’re—!” Dean stopped. “You know what, we will. Have fun with your books, bitch.”

Sam pointedly looked down to Dean’s own book sitting on the table. He just rolled his eyes and headed off with his new research material.

“Jerk,” he tossed as he passed.

Dean was practically vibrating in his seat as  _'[Edge of Darkness'](https://open.spotify.com/track/4rhUBIlzi7zgV7TryhVujl?si=o9zztxEpTsKlpxRl7zSMZw)_ stalked out from the laptop.

“Christ, it’s like finding a lost album or something,” Dean chuckled with a shake of his head. “Man, what kinda deal must'a these guys made, huh?”

Cas’s heart plummeted at that. He turned to Dean, “Do you think these young men made a Demon Deal?”

"Young men?" Dean drew his chin back. “These guys gotta be, like, forty or somethin' from the sound of 'em."

Cas shook his head, “No, they’re all only about twenty years old."

“Oh. Geez, maybe they did make a deal...” He leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling, “You know, Plant has been jerking Page and Jones around for _years_ about a real reunion. Maybe one of them got their hands on a demon to finally relive their glory days.”

“Or these boys just wanted to sound like their heroes.”

Dean knocked his head to the side with a shrug.  _“Eh,_  we’ve looked into less.” 

So Cas returned to the laptop, Dean pulled out his phone, and they set to work investigating their respective hunches, allowing their music to continue playing in the background. One corner of Cas’s lips rose of its own accord as Dean bounced his heel along to [_'_ _Safari Song,'_](https://open.spotify.com/track/1BfR5GMOgW0peHkPxrwf11?si=On1eBZFhQq66q7DTjVnFQw) his smile never leaving his face. 

It didn’t take long to confirm that the members of Led Zeppelin hadn't dropped from the face of the earth in 2012, and that the boys were indeed from Michigan and hadn't appeared out of nowhere, so Dean’s concern was quickly put to rest.

Meanwhile, Cas found some recent interviews with the band posted online. “The timbre of the lead singer’s speech leads me to believe that his singing voice hasn’t been magically altered,” he said.

“Unless the deal altered his voice completely,” Dean countered, and he leaned in again to watch the video Cas had pulled up.

Even though they'd already gathered the information they needed from it, Cas allowed the rest of the interview to play, and they finished it together.

After that, Dean broke into the boys' personal Facebook pages and found some old family videos of the three brothers in the four-man band. But it was difficult to tell whether the lead singer’s voice had changed more than any other pre-teen’s would over the years, and the other brothers who played guitar seemed to have improved at a fairly normal pace, without any sudden leaps in ability. The same went for the two other boys who had played drums for the band.

“Well, it looks like they’re clean,” Dean proclaimed as the last video finished. “It's definitely freaky, but without a pattern of bands pulling this doppelganger schtick, I don’t think we have a case on our hands.”

Cas looked at Dean uneasily.

Dean sighed. “I know, Cas... Look, if these kids _did_ make a Deal, at this point we’d have to catch up with them on their tour to confirm it, and then we'd have to find the demon they dealt with to break the Deal, or we'd have to find the current Head Honcho of the Crossroads Demons, but we don’t have a clue who that is right now. We definitely don't want to go to Asmodeus. He sure as shit's not gonna want to talk to us about some kids from Michigan, and we don’t wanna talk to him either. I mean,” Dean tossed up a hand, “Hell is probably twenty kinds of fucked up right now anyway, with both Crowley and Lucifer gone, and we definitely don't wanna wade into that kinda crap.”

Cas continued to stare at Dean with those sad eyes. Dean shifted minutely.

“And if they did make a Deal, it won't come due for another four years, or maybe longer since they didn’t make it big until recently. Besides, this could just be a spell. Or maybe that kid just sounds like that.”

Cas kept staring. Dean squirmed.

“Okay, how about this,” Dean turned in his chair to face him more fully, “we’ll keep an eye on 'em— you and me— and we'll keep this case going up on the back-burner, alright?”

Cas gave Dean a wide smile. “Yes. That sounds like a good plan.”

They sat back in their chairs and enjoyed the last track from the album, _'_ _[Meet on the Ledge](https://open.spotify.com/track/6CDYbIZs6DjyhDm7lUbpc1?si=SyXvcSqIQzaNJJdIq4F84g),'_  together.

Once that song ended, though, Cas hesitated, not wanting to break the atmosphere that had settled at the table. But he was out of songs to play, so he took a chance and asked, “The article I read also suggested a band called Rival Sons, and others, too. Would you, perhaps, want to listen to them as well?”

Dean considered it for a moment, nodding his head to the side. “You know what? Sure, Cas, hit me up, let’s try ‘em out.”

Cas started in surprise, _“All_ of them?”

“Yeah! In fact,” Dean dropped a hand on Cas’s shoulder, “let’s go hook up your computer to my stereo and we'll listen to 'em properly.”

Cas’s eyes flew wide, and Dean failed to hold back a huff of laughter as he stood.

“C’mon, man, it’s not like I’ve got it on _lockdown_ or something."

But Cas knew better, so he made sure to thank Dean as they headed down the hallway to his room, laptop in hand, leaving Dean’s book abandoned on the library table. 

And this time, when that warm feeling pushed its way to the surface, Cas let it come, allowing it to amplify the happiness that he already held. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friend! Welcome to my series "A Change is Gonna Come!" You may or may not have noticed already, but this is an ongoing WIP and it's a long one, so if you want updates once you're caught up, you're going to want to Subscribe to the Series or to me as an Author.  
> Fun fact, this little diddy was my first fic ever. I found this band and I had to wonder, "What if Dean learned about Greta Van Fleet??" and lo and behold, this happened.  
> Later when I found the prompts that would become this series I decided this would make an excellent foundation, a prologue ready to go, with some small edits. Pretty sweet.  
> Always write the fic you wanna see in the world, friends. Great things can happen.  
> ~*~*~*~  
> Further down the line in this series, I will have other optional music links, but there also some songs that I hope you could listen to as you read, or play and then continue reading. If you can't or don't want to do that, that's absolutely fine and your reading experience shouldn't be hindered. I include the full lyrics to these songs at the bottom of the chapter, or provide a link to those lyrics.   
> Also, if you're interested, sitting in a Work at the end of this series is also a whole list of Playlists, one of which contains every song mentioned in the series.  
> ~*~*~*~  
> I'm assuming that Dean has acquired a nice stereo system sometime over the years, which is treated with reverence and fiercely protected. Seems par for the Dean course.  
> 


End file.
